


Casey

by Fanficprincess05



Series: Tales from Donnie's Lab [5]
Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (TV 2012)
Genre: A lot of smashing, Donnie/Casey Bromance, Gen, Helpful Casey, Idiot brothers, Some Swearing, Super angry Donnie, Sympathetic Casey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-11
Updated: 2016-08-11
Packaged: 2018-08-08 01:09:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7737199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fanficprincess05/pseuds/Fanficprincess05
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Donnie is uncharacteristically furious, and Casey knows just what he needs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Casey

**Author's Note:**

> So this story actually does not take place before or after any episode; it was just a headcanon that I had where Donnie, despite being sweet and sassy most of the time, had some deepset anger that popped out every so often when something really infuriated him. I love the dynamic between Donnie and Casey ever since watching Race with a Demon! (s03e06) and wanted to incorporate that into this fic, since I know Casey can be a hothead as well and therefore sympathetic to D's problem. It was way too hard finding a reference to the episodes, so I didn't try and fit it into any particular storyline.  
> Hope you enjoy it!
> 
> BTW, I am almost done the first chapter of my next series, with some plotlines for subsequent series as well. A lot of them will be Donnie-centric (seeing as he's my favorite character), and I'm a huge fan of angsty, painful dramas, so yea, you've been warned in advance. So stay tuned. :)
> 
> And in the further future, I will have other fics revolving around other fandoms. I have a lot of ideas that need to come out ;)
> 
> Thanks for reading my work!

I am absolutely _fuming._ My body feels like it is engulfed in flames, my eyes see nothing but red, and if anybody steps in front of me right now I may just put them to the ground. I am not in control at this moment, something that is so uncharacteristic of my regular demeanor that it scares me a little bit. I feel like Raphael on a bad day. Or maybe a regular day. Who knows what goes through that head of his at any given time.

                Not that this hasn’t happened before. I remember the first time like it was yesterday. I was six and life in the sewers for a six year old turtle was rough, let alone a six year old turtle with _my_ brain. I had managed to create a wonderful train set over time by spending time pilfering through the sewer tunnels, securing different building materials as I went along. Using quick hands and that big brain of mine, I had a running model complete with a forest, train station and adjacent town all brought to life from the books I had read about the world above. Sure, I had never seen the world above, but I imagined that the pictures of the houses and people I read about painted an accurate portrait for my designs. It was my pride and joy, and I spent all of my waking moments (when I wasn’t dabbling in the ninja world, of course) in its presence, working on and playing with it. It was the one piece of normalcy I had in my ever complicating life, where questions like “who was I?” and “where do I fit in?” and “why couldn’t I go up into the outside world?” abounded.

                That is, until Mikey had to go and crush my entire set after some stupid skateboarding trick went wrong. His skateboard was not the only thing I wanted to snap that day. Unfortunately, necks are more important than planks of wood on wheels.

                I managed to calm down eventually with the help of Master Splinter, and although he has taught me some tricks to help soothe my anger, I won’t say that I always use them. Like right now, for instance. I definitely cannot find my right mind to be thinking about breathing techniques and emotional stability mantras right now. No, all I can think about is shoving my foot through the pinball machine, if I’m being honest.

                And besides, I can’t say that my anger _isn’t_ valid. The night started off normal enough, with my brothers and I grabbing the Shellraiser and Casey on his bike for a spin around the city to keep an eye out for any Kraang or Shredder activity. Unfortunately (for me), April had to stay home and keep an eye on her father, who had fallen ill and needed her attention. Everything was going smoothly and the streets were clear – until they weren’t. All of a sudden a couple dozen Kraang bots surrounded us, blasting us with those laser cannons of theirs, although it wasn’t enough to take out the Shellraiser. We made a quick getaway thanks to Leo’s quick thinking and a few shots of garbage to clear the masses. The Kraang were not so easily dissuaded – they followed us on bikes of their own, continuing fire at us and trying to get us to slow down. I could see that the Shellraiser was beginning to take more damage than it could handle, and that we were beginning to get low on fuel (a certain “joyride” we had taken the day before in the desolate streets during a massive storm now seemed to be biting our behinds as I silently scolded myself for not refilling the tank) and so I told Leo it was time to go home and recharge for a better attack. Spewing off the Shellraiser’s stats and the fact that we were outnumbered, I might as well have been talking to a wall as my brothers ignored me, concocting battle plans and forging ahead despite my pleas. I tried to take control and save my most valuable creation, but my brothers pushed back and I lost the fight. Eventually we lost the fight as the tank emptied and we became sitting ducks, but we fled from the Kraang fast enough to avoid being injured and slow enough for me to watch my beloved Shellraiser turn to dust. _Why didn’t they listen to me?!! Because of them, the thing I worked on for MONTHS is GONE! It would take me forever to make a new Shellraiser! How were we supposed to get around now?!_ All of these thoughts swirled in my head and increased my rage. I refused to talk to them on the whole trip home despite their apologies (well, Mikey’s full apology, Leo’s semi-apology and Raph’s lack of one, anyways) and as I neared the lair, my anger manifested into an inferno that took control of me.

                I storm down the hallway towards my lab, punching the side of my fist into the wall as I do so. My brothers are right on my heels, and their presence is overwhelming me and making my rage intensify.

                “Donnie, come on, you know this was our best shot at taking down a bunch of Kraang operators and possibly finding some information as to where they were hiding. We had no other choice,” Leo pleads, trailing at the back.

                “Not helping, Leo,” I growl, quickening my pace.

                “I’m so sorry D, it’s all my fault, it’s always my fault!” Mikey whimpers as he jogs beside me, but even his puppy dog eyes can’t bring me down.

                “Yea Donnie, isn’t it terrible how we took your precious car and used it to crush some Kraang and be the coolest ninjas ever? Even though the Shellraiser exploded, you have to admit that we looked pretty badass out there,” Raph says, putting an arm around me and grinning, and I know he is trying to goad my anger. Unlike everyone else, he _loves_ when I get like this.

                “Go fuck yourself, Raph!” I snap at him and he giggles with excitement, looking to Leo and pointing at me with pride.

                “Stop instigating him, Raph!” Leo scolds from the back. “Do you want him to freak out on us like the last time?” Raph goes to answer but Leo holds up a hand and stops him with a “Never mind, don’t answer that.”

                If I didn’t want to bulldoze New York City right now, I would laugh at how typical this situation has become. Leo plays the concerned brother who wants to calm me down but is resigned to the fact that there is nothing he can do. Mikey shrivels into a wallflower as if my increasing storm cloud withers his eternal sunshine. He apologizes for _everything_ , even if it has nothing to do with him. Once I remember him apologizing for the fact that my Bo staff made his nunchuks hit the wrong enemy, or something stupid like that. And then of course Raph just sucks my anger up like a sponge, trying to double it and loving every minute. Always the same, my brothers are, every single time.

                I reach my lab after what feels like an infinite amount of time, and I turn to glare at my brothers. “ _Don’t_ follow me; I’m going in my room to freak the hell out and I swear to god if any of you get in my way I will kick your ass.” I feel them smirking somewhat, and imagine it’s because such hostile behavior is so odd coming from me it’s almost funny. My brothers hold their hands up in resignation and leave. They know the pattern well enough by now to know that they should leave me alone when times like this arise.

                I run into my lab and go to slam the door as hard as I can, but I realize that the door never ends up shutting. I turn around and find Casey Jones in my doorway, rubbing his wrist and wincing. Guess he tried to stop my thrown door. Oops. Bet he’ll feel that tomorrow. I actually forgot that he patrolled with us tonight, to be honest, hence his presence in the lair and now unfortunately my lab.

                “You shouldn’t be in here, Casey,” I growl lowly, walking up to my desk and grabbing an empty beaker.

                He steps towards me, and that’s a mistake. “Donnie, I-“

                “Let me repeat,” I say, throwing the beaker in my hand at the wall near his head, the shattered parts barely missing his face, my face turning red. “I don’t want you in here, so fuck off Casey Jones!!” I yell, kicking at my desk chair and causing it to fly across the room, breaking apart into pieces.

                “Donnie, wait!” He goes to grab my arm and I see black. The next thing I know, I’m holding him down on my desk and screaming expletives and threats in his face. He glares at me before yelling back and after five seconds of screaming at each other I stop, out of breath, before letting go of him.

                “You have twenty seconds to tell me why you’re here before I throw you out.” I place a hand on the table, trying to compose myself long enough to listen but my tensed muscles won’t unclench and my shaking doesn’t cease. Casey groans as he gets off my table but looks at me with a look of…sympathy?

                “I can’t stop your anger, trust me, I _know,”_ he says, and I believe him because he’s been there, “but I _won’t_ let you destroy the stuff that’s important to you and to us. Give me one minute in here, just to help you avoid damage you’ll regret later. It’s not fun to accidently destroy your valuables,” he mumbles, and if I didn’t want to pop his head off of his shoulders I would certainly console him.

                “ _One_ minute,” I say, still clenching the desk and watching as the wood begins to bow under my pressure.  It’s amazing how fast Casey can work under pressure. In the span of sixty seconds he has grabbed my mutagens, collectibles, a few empty lab beakers and tubes, my laptop, my centrifuge and pictures of my brothers and April and tossed them outside my room. Safely away from my fury. He comes up to me and grins.

                “One last thing,” he says.

                “Oh, for Christ’s sake, _what?”_ I yell, and his baseball bat is shoved in front of my face, taking me slightly by surprise.

                “Let it all out and give ‘em hell,” he laughs. I feel the fire burn, and I grab his bat, smashing it into the table in front of me and rejoicing in the crunching noises.

                Everything that happens next is a giant blur. I hear smashing, crashing, breaking and splintering, but I see nothing. I smash and smash and smash, over and over again. Releasing all of the tension I am holding in me, all of the resentment and fury at the situation, and it feels great. Somehow Casey manages to stay out of my way but I know he is still here with me somewhere. A good twenty minutes have passed and my anger has exchanged itself with a sense of leaden calm. I am panting, sweating and my palms are screaming in torn up pain, but the fire is gone. The bat is grabbed from my hand and I am caught before I fall, slowly being lowered to the ground where I lay on my back. I turn to see Casey sitting against my cracking wall, twirling what’s left of his bat (not much to be honest) and smiling at me.

                “How are you feeling, then?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. I close my eyes and smile.

                “Sedated, almost,” I reply, and as I feel my brain function coming back to me I begin to evaluate my physical state. The tension has completely dissipated and the shakes are gone, which is a good sign. I’ll probably feel something tomorrow, though. Let’s just say that training is going to suck a _lot._ “What’s the damage?” I say, and the big laugh coming from Casey makes me open my eyes to look at him.

                “I’d say you fucked some shit up pretty wickedly, man,” he sputters, and I sit up and survey around me, despite my protesting limbs. He’s not lying. There is broken glass covering almost every inch of my lab floor, walls that can barely be called that anymore, tables and chairs splintered into a million pieces, metal cabinets flipped upside down, and their contents spilled everywhere. Posters are ripped, solutions poured out all over the place, a broken water pipe spurting everywhere. Somehow, the light fixture survived, though.

                “Damn,” I say, and I don’t know if I am traumatized or impressed. I shuffle myself over to the wall to sit next to Casey and he gives me a high five. The sensation causes the burning in my hands to increase.

                “Ow,” I growl, turning my palms up and realizing the damage done to them. “Damn you for giving me that bat, Casey Jones!” I say playfully and punch him in the shoulder. He mocks being in pain and then winks.

                “You know you loved it, D.”

                “I’ve actually never been _that_ angry before, so I have no reference, but yes I did love it,” I laugh. “But now I don’t want to move,” I groan, banging my head softly on the wall behind me.

                “So what usually happens when you get angry, then?” Casey questions, stretching his legs out in front of him and looking at me.

                I grin. “Well, I suppose it depends on the situation at hand. I’ve slept it off, or Splinter has helped me meditate in order to cool off which has worked a couple of times. I’ve screamed into a pillow, destroyed our punching bag several times, and ruined a valuable of the guilty brother in retaliation. The most extreme before this was a complete silent spell – refusing to leave my room, help with the maintenance of our lair, forgoing missions, for a complete week. My brothers actually went insane after the television and pinball machine both crashed on the first day,” I smirked, remembering that very dark week. “They learned after that whole fiasco that I was to be taken seriously as both a ninja and their brother, let me tell you that,” I laughed.

                “ _Dude_! And I thought _my_ uncontrollable anger was wicked. I only just smash and destroy stuff, like my dad’s liquor supply or the tires to his van, when he really pisses me off. Or my bike, but then I regret it the next day when I spend a fortune repairing it,” Casey grins sheepishly. I pat him on the shoulder and smile in sympathy.

                “I guess we all deal with our messes differently,” I muse, and the deepness of that statement is not surpassed by either of us.

                “Speaking of messes,” Casey says, gesturing to the room around us. “I only help with making them, not cleaning them up,” he says, and the face I give him makes him laugh out loud before holding his hands up in surrender. He gets up, dusts off his pants and holds a hand out to me. "You know, I won’t make any concrete guarantees, but we’ll find a way to turn things around.” His tone is serious, and I appreciate his honesty. My logical and empathetic sides have both returned and I take that comment to heart in the right way.

                “Thanks, Casey, for everything. Really, I appreciate it.” I smile, grabbing his hand and pulling myself up. We pat each other on the shoulder and share a smile before heading to my door to go collect cleaning supplies, since my lab ones no longer..exist. I open the door and am startled by Leo, Raph and Mikey who are all standing there with brooms, my protected lab stuff, and a pizza. I suddenly feel a deep appreciation for them and I forgive them instantly. What would I be without my brothers anyways?

                “We heard you needed help,” Leo says, smiling. “Master Splinter let us go from meditation early to help you fix whatever needed fixing.”

                “Dude, you really did a number on this place, didn’t ya?” Raph says in awe, pushing through us to look at the damage done. He pats me on the back and high fives Casey.

                “Donnie, I-“ Mikey is about to say something, an apology probably, but I cut him off with a big hug instead.

                “It’s okay Mikey, really. I just overreacted a little.” I smile.

                “ _Overreacted??_ ” Leo says incredulously.

                “ _A little?”_ Raph questions with a note of sarcasm in his voice.

                “Yeah, Raph, a little.” I say, sticking my tongue out at him but then pulling my brothers into a group hug. “But it’s okay, everything is going to be okay now,” I grin, and we all break off to begin cleaning the mess that is my lab. It’s going to be a long night, my body hurts with every move I make and we’ll all be dead tired tomorrow, but the thought doesn’t anger me at all.


End file.
